Elemental Assassin 03 - Venom

something in Mab’s ear. After a moment, the Fire elemental nodded her approval, rubber-stamping my impending beating and possible death. Good to know where I stood, at least.
    But Mab wasn’t the only one watching us. Phillip Kincaid was interested in the drama as well. The casino owner leaned against one of the blackjack tables, staring at me with obvious curiosity, trying to figure out who I was and why Elliot Slater was dragging me off the riverboat. He looked across the deck at Mab, who gave him a flat stare, a clear warning not to interfere with the giant. After a moment, Kincaid shrugged and turned back to the table. He didn’t know me so he didn’t care what Mab’s men did to me. This might be Kincaid’s casino, but even here, he knew he was no match for the Fire elemental.
    But there was one more person on the deck who wasn’t busy pretending I was invisible—Owen Grayson. He must have seen Elliot Slater out of the corner of his eye, because he glanced at the giant. Then his head snapped back again when he realized that the giant had a death grip on me. Owen’s violet eyes stayed on me as he watched Slater walk me past the gaming tables and slot machines. I didn’t look in Owen’s direction or try to signal him in any way. This was my problem, my mess, my punishment for antagonizing Jonah McAllister instead of keeping my mouth shut.
    But to my surprise, instead of going back to his tonic water, Owen Grayson got to his feet, threw a couple of chips on the bar to cover his tab, and headed toward us.
    Well, this was going to be interesting.
    Owen met us in the middle of the deck in an open space behind one of the blackjack tables. Since Owen stood in the center of the aisle, Elliot Slater had to stop or run over the businessman. Slater decided to stop. The other man was important and rich enough for that small courtesy.
    “Is there a problem?” Owen asked. His voice was low and deep, with a dangerous, aggressive edge, and his eyes flashed like dark amethysts in his face.
    Elliot tightened his grip on my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh in a clear warning for me to keep my mouth shut. “No problem, Mr. Grayson. Just taking out a bit of trash that got onto the riverboat by mistake.”
    Trash
wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever been called. Hardly enough to make me roll my eyes. But the word made Owen’s gaze simmer with violet fire. For a moment, I felt a blast of cold emanate from his body. A manifestation of his elemental talent for metal—and his anger. Owen’s face remained smooth, except for the scar under his chin. It whitened under the strain of his clenched jaw.
    “Ms. Blanco is my date for the evening,” Owen replied in a mild tone. “She’s hardly trash. I suggest you let go of her arm. Most ladies don’t like to be manhandled.”
    “Only in bed,” I quipped. “And even then, I still like to be on top.”
    His mouth quirked at my flip remark, and our eyes met and held. Gray on violet. Desire simmered in Owen’seyes underneath his anger, and I knew he could see the emotion reflected in my gaze. But there was something else, another emotion in his cold face that surprised me—concern. For me.
    My chest tightened, and I couldn’t breathe. It had been so long since someone besides Finn, Fletcher, or the Deveraux sisters had cared about what happened to me that it took my breath away for a moment. Even if Owen Grayson was probably just playing the part of the gentleman in order to get laid tonight. Right now, it was working for him.
    Owen turned his attention to Slater and smiled at the giant, letting a bit of ugly violence show through his hot gaze. The giant frowned. It was one thing to take me onshore for another beat-down when it seemed like I was here by myself or had somehow snuck in. It was quite another to accost the proclaimed date of one of Ashland’s wealthiest businessmen. Enough even to make Elliot Slater think twice.
    Footsteps smacked, fabric swished on the deck behind us, and I felt another blast of elemental magic—Fire magic. Dozens of tiny, hot, invisible needles pricked my skin, and my jaw locked even tighter as I struggled to keep my face impassive. To show no sign that I felt anything out of the ordinary. Especially not Mab Monroe’s elemental Fire magic dripping off her body like hot candle wax. Slater stepped back, dragging me with him, to make room for his boss, Mab Monroe. Evidently the giant was making too much of a scene, and the Fire elemental